Grudges Are Easy To Hold
by CombatMage
Summary: America is convinced that England hates him, while England holds an immature grudge against him. Will these two ever be united? Or will the rift between them just widen? Rated T  Nothing real bad though, lol xP  Just to be safe. USUK Oneshot.


Chapter 1

"This world meeting has been adjourned. You are dismissed!" America said cheerily He then smiled and left. England groaned. If not for the comfort of his -supposedly imaginary- creatures, he was sure that he would die one day... He preferred the old, cute America, not this ambitious, idiotic, always-thinking-he's-a-hero America... When he was becoming independent, England could only glare at him while trying to to break out into tears. That ungrateful 'git! England had taken care of America since he was little, and the he broke off from him without a care in the world. Still... Maybe his changes were for the better. England shuddered at the memories.

Flashback –

"Hey, America!" England grinned at the little chibi kid. He was so cute that England was sure that he would just faint. "I bought a book especially for you! It took a lot of convincing to have Italy to sell it too me." England continued, "Its called "Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio" by Niccolo Machiavelli."

America's eyes widened. The corner of his lips pulled into a innocent grin, as he said, "Dwop dead, Engwand!" In his cute little voice. England rolled his eyes and pulled out another book.

"This book is called "Del modo di trattare i sudditi della Val di Chiana ribellati" also by Niccolo Machiavelli, once again, bought from Italy." England said, as he glared at the ungrateful little git. Couldn't that prat see that these books were for his own good? Machiavelli's way of ruling was cold minded, but affective. "I also bought this statue of Machiavelli from Italy at a low price because he said that Germany didn't want it and all those white flags." America's eyes once again gleamed with amusement.

"Dwop dead Engwand, pwease~!" He squealed at England's eyes, which were narrowed and concentrated with cold fury.

"If this is how you're going to act, you'll never become a proper country!" England exclaimed frustratedly. He then set the things on the table and went home. America giggled at the older country's rage. That's when England knew that that kid... was going to be trouble. Little did he know, America actually read them all out of curiosity and boredom, and disapproved of them all, which was why he never put them into practice, thus disappointing England.

End Flashback –

England's eyes opened after remembering that, shuddering with disgust. That kid, taking control of all the meetings? They were goners. Then he saw a creature land on his arm. England smiled. "Hey little buddy, how have you been?" The creature zipped around him, occasionally nibbling on his arm. "Hey, stop that, that tickles!" he laughed. America watched depressingly from the shadows. England had been ignoring him for a while. At first, he laughed incredulously at England and his fancy imagination. But then it quickly changed into sorrow that England chose his mind over matter (A.K.A . America). He stepped out and England froze.

England's eyes narrowed with suspicion and then gave him what the others called behind his back, "The Super epic hacks pro uber laser" stare. It was called that because it left you empty, feeling as if you'd been stabbed or something. America winced.

"Come on, now," America began, "You've been ignoring me, avoiding me, and hating on me for these last few meetings..."

"I don't know what you're talking about," England replied coldly. America hardly knew that England still bore a grudge against him for disrespecting him, being ungrateful, and being an arrogant prat.

"You know what I mean," America said, shaking his head sadly, "You keep looking bored at me, and you're staring at me like _that_." England's "Super epic hacks pro uber laser" stare focused and redirected its target at America's throat. "See?" America shouted, "You're hating on me, you're trying to murder me with your looks!" He accused. England's stare stopped. He stood up abruptly.

"I'm leaving," He said, as he got up and left. America ran after him but as he was about to catch up he tripped, while England was turning around to tell America to stop following him. They crashed down into the floor and had a little accidental kiss. Both nation's cheeks glowed.

"You git!" England snarled, causing America to shrink back. "The moment I lay my eyes on ya, I _knew _you were gonna be trouble. God forbid, I don't even know what got into me back then, taking care of you. And what did I get in return? A disobedient kid who doesn't do any chores except when forced, and the only thing he says, is 'Dwop dead, Engwand'!" England ranted. He probably could have gone on, but then both America and England heard running down the hallway.

"_Leave me alone, you crazy woman! What kind of sister _are _you_?" Russia screamed as he ran by. No doubt Belarus was chasing him with some lethal weapon, threatening him into marriage.

"Brother, wait up! We must become one!" She called after him, holding a lethal looking pocket knife that was dripping something that anyone could guess was poison. England grimaced at Russia's fate.

"Uh... that was disturbing... Anyway, I'm sorry about that. I'm really sorry about everything." America said miserably, "I actually did read those books, but I hated them. I read them because I looked up to you. I told you to drop dead because I was a _kid _at that time, where I didn't take threats very seriously. You were my hero, that's why I broke off from you. So that I could be like you..." America's eyes started to pool with tears at the realization that it was _his _fault that England was ignoring him. Meanwhile, England was staring at him with wide eyes. Not the "Super epic hacks pro uber laser" stare, but rather a warm, parental stare. Then he moved forward.

"Sorry 'bout that, you little prat," England muttered as he embraced him. Gradually America stopped sniffling and looked up at him with a new found respect. It was a look of admiration and worship. England grimaced. He would much prefer to have the old America back, then that new one with that creepy worshiping stare.

That night, as England lay in bed, he thought about America. He pitied him, and tried to understand America's pain. But despite all that, he failed to do so. But by the next time he met him, he was bouncing around as if nothing happened. _Kids will be kids_, England thought, as he watched the hyper nation run around. "Hey, you git, are you on drugs or something? Calm down!" England shouted at him, but fixed him with a warm look just in case. America shrugged and sat.

That night he dreamed. He was at Big Ben, taking a stroll. Then, suddenly, many, many chibi Americas popped out holding Machiavelli books and statues. Then they all spoke together, "_**Dwop dead, Engwand!**_" and ran forward. England screamed.

END


End file.
